


Fragments of Yavin

by InFamousHero



Series: Fragments of The Knight [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Satele Shan Critical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InFamousHero/pseuds/InFamousHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles detailing parts of Yavin as filtered through my interpretation of the Jedi Knight storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How K'Surda was convinced to go where the Republic isn't welcome.

“No.” It was all K’Surda could blurt out, hands clenched tight at her sides.

It wasn’t their place, it wasn’t their _business_. They were supposed to be cooperating with each other weren’t they? That’s what they were  _trying_  to do here. Weren’t they supposed to show trust to get any?

“You know better than this,” Satele said coolly.

K’Surda swallowed, trying to speak around the knot of anxiety in her throat. She felt like a child under Satele’s even stare, helpless, ignorant, like the words coming out of her mouth were somehow unreasonable. “It isn’t our place.”

“If the roles were reversed, you’d think they would leave it to us?” Theron chimed in without looking up from his datapad.

She fought the urge she look at her feet. Her voice wouldn’t come back quickly enough and K’Surda frowned, glaring at him out of frustration.

The sigh from Satele forced her attention back to the Grand Master and chills swirled through her belly again. “I gave you a chance to find a better path. You were to walk away and prove yourself a jedi worthy of becoming a master,” Satele spoke curtly, a light frown pinching her brow. 

Each word felt like the hacking of a blade at K’Surda’s knees and she struggled to hold Satele’s gaze as she continued. “This is not what I expected from you. Twice now you’ve strayed from your promise and allowed others to seed darkness in you. You would do well to remember who your allies are, Knight Dorne.”

Dryness clawed at her throat and her mouth remained shut, as if her jaw were bolted in place.

 _Allies_.

Allies weren’t supposed to make you feel like an unreasonable toddler at every other turn, were they? Had she _misunderstood_ something? Had Vitiate scrambled her mind so badly she couldn’t recognize they were trying to help her see clearly again?

K’Surda shook her head, confused, angry. No, this didn’t feel right. It _didn’t_ feel ethical, they were supposed to working together, not sneaking around each other’s backs. Someone had to start showing trust first or they wouldn’t get anywhere.

Theron, still preoccupied, muttered; “isn’t the Imperials, that’s for sure.”

K’Surda shifted uncomfortably and looked away from Satele, staring at her feet and the puddles under them, the other prints in the mud, republic and imperial boots both.

Satele was as calm as ever. “You may yet prove yourself, but you must make haste. This needless debate has cost you time.”

Satele turned away from her to deal with something else, a silent dismissal, a closing of the ‘argument,’

Numbly, K’Surda turned and walked from the camp to find Raz. The strong reptavian would be able to get her there fast enough and he could handle the terrain better than most speeders.

Even by the time she got the temple ground, she still couldn’t really tell the difference between the prints in the mud.


	2. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the prisoner from the temple/training grounds.

“Allowing this torture makes us no better than Revan.”

“We can be better than Revan after he’s dealt with.” K’Surda couldn’t keep the bite from her voice, like an akk hound baring its teeth when it had finally had enough.

It didn’t go unnoticed, a sharp edge entering Satele’s eyes. The answer did little to placate the Grand Master and her brow furrowed. “I need to meditate on the path ahead. There  _must_ be a way forward without making such sacrifices.”

A spike of anger shot through K’Surda, bitter and white-hot, and she clenched her teeth. “Isn’t that why you keep me around?” She spat the words out before thinking, frustration coiling tight in her belly.

Satele’s hard eyes narrowed at her, giving away nothing as tension hung heavy in the air with a suddenness that at any other time would have cowed her. But she was too angry to do anything but stand with a straight back and raised chin.

There was no child-like fear of authority in her for just a moment.

She could feel Scourge’s eyes on her but didn’t dare break away from Satele’s stare. He was probably smirking, satisfied to see her ‘snapping at the hands that leashed’ her. She didn’t give it any attention, but she did notice Lana had stopped whatever she was doing at the console, even she hadn’t turned around.

Finally, a fraction of tension left Satele’s posture. “This is not the time or the place. We will discuss this later.” Without waiting for K’Surda to speak she turned on her heel and walked away, the very image of Jedi calm, as usual.

K’Surda stared at her retreating back with wide, disbelieving eyes. How could she just keep dismissing this? Dismissing _her_?

The child-like feeling hit her like a brick to the stomach, as if she were a gnat Satele had waved off.

What did Satele even want from her anymore? She was pushed away to prove herself against the Imperials and it did nothing. She did what she could to balance the problems of Makeb and the Republic’s demands of the situation _and it did nothing._

Now, uncovering the poison in their ranks, stopping them from killing each other, fighting Revan, trying to stop _him_ from coming back—when would it be enough?

Would it _ever_ be enough?

Part of her doubted it. She knew exactly what she’d done to get to this point, every crystal clear detail running through her like a toxin in her blood.

Maybe she deserved this. She’d already shown how little of a _person_ she really was, causing such devastation and pain in her wake. What right did she have to demand Satele’s attention?

Lana finally looked over her shoulder, concern and some confusion on her features, but K’Surda couldn’t hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. She turned away, eyes stinging in shame and anger she couldn’t explain, and stalked off to find somewhere quiet.


	3. Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last moment K'Surda and Lana shared on Yavin

“I… I have a scar.”

Knowing what she did, she wasn’t about to insult K’Surda by assuming the mark was simply embarrassing. Lana moved her hands away from the latches keeping K’Surda’s gear secure and clasped her face instead, as gently as she could.

Copper eyes stared at her with naked vulnerability and she stroked K’Surda’s cheek with her thumb.

“Whatever your boundaries are, I will respect them,” she murmured, hoping her sincerity was clear.

Thankfully, the tension bled from K’Surda, even if some of her unease remained for which Lana did not blame her. The knight had been through a considerable amount of pain and trouble, at least some of it fostered by her own order’s bizarre treatment. But Lana dismissed her thoughts, there were much more important things to focus on right now.

K’Surda stood and began loosening her gear. “I don’t want to hide, not from you. I just wanted you to…” she paused, eyes darting down. She bit her lip and curled her fingers tighter into her gear. “I wanted you to know beforehand.”

Lana shifted closer to the edge of her cot and stood, placing her hands over K’Surda’s. Before a word could leave K’Surda again, she leaned up and gently pulled K’Surda down to press a kiss to her brow. The unease faded, grew softer–it became easier to embrace and brush away. “You aren’t going to frighten me,” Lana murmured.

They both continued until the last seal came undone, splitting down the spine of K’Surda’s back, and the armour was finally pulled away.

It wasn’t fear that lodged itself in Lana’s throat. She couldn’t pin down what exactly, it was a myriad of things, but she knew even after they parted ways and she left Yavin far behind her this image would never leave her memory.

She knew K’Surda was the knight who assaulted Kaas City and fought with their former Emperor, but that wasn’t the only time K’Surda encountered him.

The Order’s failed strike against him showed in the twisted mark K’Surda bore. The scar was messy and discoloured, a sick shade of purple that radiated outwards from the centre of her chest. It looked very much like she’d been hit with a massive blast of force lightning but…

Gently, Lana coaxed K’Surda to turn around and she did without protest.

Her throat tightened and Lana frowned, trying to swallow her feelings into something more manageable. This was temporary, she couldn’t afford… this.

But she reached out, gently running her hands across K’Surda’s back and brushing the last of the tension from her body.

The lightning must have gone right through her and out the other side. The scarring was much worse on her back, sprawling across her shoulders and all the way down her spine.

The only way K’Surda stood in front of her right now was because the Emperor purposefully kept K’Surda alive. He turned her and her team into puppets and here she stood bearing his mark and facing the inevitability of fighting him  _again_ in the future.

She served the Empire and cared greatly for her home, but she was never particularly fond of the Emperor. The idea of him, perhaps when she was younger, but an absent leader did nothing to endear and now his intentions were known. At least some of them…

He never deserved the veneration they gave him, they were  _all_  tools for his ambitions and it frustrated her to no end that so many Sith would act the exact same way given the power and opportunity.

Her thoughts were running away from her again. Lana sighed quietly and leaned up on her toes, pressing a kiss to the nape of K’Surda’s neck. “You are more than everything he did to you,” she said, wrapping her arms around K’Surda’s waist and hugging her firmly.

K’Surda was quiet for a moment, hands resting over Lana’s arms, and turned around to face her. Conflicting emotions darted around inside K’Surda and she opened her mouth to speak but bit back her words just as quick.

Lana forced a smile, though try as she might she knew it was a sad one. “I know,” she murmured, suddenly unable to make her voice louder.

Before a lull could form and break them, K’Surda ducked down and met Lana in a kiss they eagerly lost themselves in. It would have to say what they couldn’t–it would have to be enough.

It needed to be.


	4. Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K’Surda is extremely perplexed by Satele’s decision to grant her the title and rank of Battlemaster.

“What?” She could swear the title was ringing in her ears.

“You heard correctly,  _battlemaster_.”

They couldn’t possibly be—what _was_ this?

She couldn’t pull together a coherent thought, trying to reconcile all of Satele’s previous behaviour with this utterly baffling decision. _Why?_

K’Surda blinked, unable to hide her shock as she stared wide-eyed at Satele and struggled for words. “But I- I’m not-” she sputtered, trying to grasp for structure in a confusing flurry of thoughts. “This isn’t right…”

Satele clasped her hands behind her back, appearing to study her. “Ignoring your accomplishments would be insulting.”

The even tone was deliberate, practised, and gave away nothing, least of all why Satele was really doing this to her.

Why?  _Why_  give her such a rank? So she would feel involved in the Order? So she would feel acknowledged? Was that what Satele thought she needed?

She grit her teeth, trying to swallow the maelstrom of conflicting emotions that swelled up inside her. To think she had felt so blissfully  _calm_  only hours ago…

Parting with Lana was quick but no less painful for its speed. She was trying not to think about it, trying to push her feelings to the side, but she knew they would catch up to her eventually. It was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off and ruin her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t expect it to hurt or have consequences, she wasn’t naïve but she _was_ desperate. Lana was kind with her, gentle, _caring_ , she _cared_ —something K’Surda was sorely missing in her life. Compassion was ‘supposed’ to be a Jedi trait. Why had she found it in a Sith and not her own kind?

K’Surda clenched her hands and forcibly relaxed them, crossing her arms instead. “It wasn’t insulting before,” she muttered. “What changed?”

Again a sharp edge entered Satele’s gaze and K’Surda swallowed her anxiety, forced herself to meet Satele’s stare despite her fear. Honestly, what was so _different_  this time that Satele wanted to reward her instead of humiliate her?

Theron remained quiet, watching the two of them as if he were watching a pair of nexu size each other up. K’Surda didn’t feel like much of one, she felt like a runt growling at its betters, but this was too confusing to just leave it be.

Satele took a breath and sighed deeply. “At this point in time you are the most accomplished of our Knights. Despite your nature, you are the best we have to offer when it comes to combat and rooting out our enemies.” She gave K’Surda a scrutinizing look. “And you have always, more or less, been aware of _who_ our enemies are and why we should be wary of them.”

Uneasiness wormed through her and K’Surda swallowed the slimy feeling lining her throat. She couldn’t place why, but something about Satele’s words made her exceedingly uncomfortable, even angry. It was perplexing and she couldn’t understand why any of it mattered _now_ when she had still failed and _still_ gone against Satele’s wishes.

She tried to sound calmer than she felt, curling her fingers against herself. “I don’t understand.”

Satele spoke calmly, “you will.”

The tone did nothing to squash the confusion or discomfort, but K’Surda didn’t have the energy to keep pressing and just sighed, dropping her gaze to the ground.

Maybe it would make sense with time…


End file.
